


Through the storm

by Destinee Zara (LadyDestineeZara)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Sex, Anxiety, Consensual Somnophilia, Idk how to tag anymore, M/M, Married Couple, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Explicit Sex, Other characters are here just have small parts, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rough Sex, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Somnophilia, Tenderness, Thoughts of Self-harm, Unconventional Panic Attack, keith and shiro are married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:02:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29886366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyDestineeZara/pseuds/Destinee%20Zara
Summary: Was he feeling normal? Of course not, his emotions were still all over the place in the fallout of that mess. He still dreaded having to deal with the consequences of his inner storm and turmoil.However, a small sparkle of hope was ignited by Keith’s smile.“Will you stay with me?”Keith closed his eyes again to kiss Shiro’s palm with all the earnestness and sincerity he could muster.“Always. For as long as you’ll have me.”My Sheithlentine present toDraycarla!
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12
Collections: Sheithlentines 2021





	Through the storm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Draycarla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycarla/gifts).



> Hi! This is a Sheithlentine present to [Draycarla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycarla/profile)! I hope you like it!  
> I'll talk a little bit more on the endnotes.
> 
> Some (possible) Content Warnings:  
> \- Thoughts of self-harm  
> \- A sex scene that may look like dub-con, even though it’s not  
> \- Mentions of sex and some crude language about it
> 
> Side note: I had some hadships with beta, but I did the best that I could!

The morning lights did very little to calm down Shiro’s nerves. The shadows of his latest nightmare still made his throat feel constricted. Yet, he couldn’t remember exactly what he was dreaming of, except for two things, a faint sound, either a crowd chant or a ray of electricity, and that the dream overall was horrible. It was the third nightmare that week. Shiro didn’t know why, but March was always like that to him: filled with anxiety he couldn’t even guess the reason why, constant nightmares and sleepless nights, and a sensation of overwhelmedness that seemed to suffocate him as if he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He hated March.

As he sat on the bed with his feet on the floor to ground him back into reality, Atlas chimed in his mind gently. She was always gentle with her captain, but during March, she seemed even more concerned. 

_ I’m fine _ . He thought back to her, forcing himself to smile. As if the physical action could turn into good emotions, not for his but for her sake. 

She hummed, pondering on his answer. 

He was too tired to try to guess what she was thinking. Probably disapproval. Shiro had to make an effort not to think aloud ‘get in the disapproval line’ with sarcasm. Lashing out helped no one.

He could hear the shower water running out.

Keith must have finished his shower.

Shiro forced himself to smile again, this time doing his best to be more convincing.

They had an important mission today. The Blades and the Voltron Coalition, led by the humans and the Atlas, were helping the Amariatos to free their planet. Apparently, a pro-Empire, pro-Zarkon, cell had taken their planet before the final push-back against the remainings of the Empire and they had been controlling the place since then. Allura and Lotor were able to negotiate with the Amariatos to help them in exchange for them getting into the Coalition. Even without the Empire, those two were set on making the Coalition into some type of Intergalactic UN (he to redeem himself, and she because it seems the best diplomatic way to avoid another Empire). 

Shiro knew how his husband got before missions. Keith was always tense and nervous, even when they had the upper hand. That was why Shiro woke up to an empty bed not to his husband in his arms: Keith probably woke up extra early due to his own anxiety. 

Shiro wouldn’t impose his own unresolved bullshit on his dear husband on those conditions. Keith already had a lot on his plate. 

That’s why he put on a brave face and let out the best smile he could muster. 

“Morning, babe.”

Keith was exiting their bathroom in the nude, having already dried himself. Shiro could see, hell, he could almost  _ feel _ some of the tension leaving his husband’s muscles as he sighed and smiled back.

“Hey…”

He walked until he was standing between Shiro’s legs, in a need to get closer. 

Shiro didn’t know who actually sighed, but it was a relief for both of them when Keith hugged his head and shoulders while Shiro embraced his waist. The scent of his husband and their soap was like a calming tea, washing over him. The softness that came from the hot water still lingering on Keith’s skin made him the best teddy bear Shiro could ever want. It wasn’t enough to clear his anxiety completely, but it was a great improvement. 

“How’re you feeling?” Keith asked in a half-slurred tone, massaging a few knots on Shiro’s shoulders as if he knew of all the tension his husband was carrying. 

“I should be asking you that. You’re the most likely to be on the floor actually doing the fight.”

“We both know that leading an operation is just as demanding.” he could almost feel the petulant pout Keith was making. It made Shiro himself feel like smiling, even if just a little. 

“I’m a big boy. I can handle it.” he sighed, his ear on Keith’s chest hearing his heartbeat.

Tum-tum.

Tum-tum.

Melodic and soothing, as much as a natural lullaby as the waves of the sea.

Shiro could also hear Keith’s sigh, feeling as if he himself could breathe better too.

“Fair enough, but don’t hesitate to tell me or someone else if you need a break ok?”

“Mh-hm.”

“I’m serious, Takashi.” he detached himself just enough so they could look each other in the eye “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you haven’t been sleeping well.”

Shiro couldn’t help but cringe. He knew it was useless to try hiding anything from his husband. First of all, because Keith was way more perceptive than what people gave him credit for, but also because sleeping in the same bed kinda took away a lot of leeways to hide that type of thing. Yet, there was a more primitive and anxious part of him that hoped Keith wasn’t going to find out. Now that he did, that part of Shiro’s brain was really considering glaring and telling him that it was none of his business. But of course Shiro held that back. Why would he be that needlessly mean to someone who he loved so much? Lashing out helped no one, especially lashing out at Keith.

However, he couldn’t help but look away from his husband’s beautiful blue eyes. 

Keith sighed again. 

“I know that you can handle it, but just take it easy, ok? You’re usually more worn out this time of the year.”

“Yes sir.” he replied playfully.

“And after this mission, we’ll take a vacation.”

Now  _ that _ made Shiro look back at Keith with his mouth open in shock (and a little outrage if he was honest).

“But I have other work to-”

“Work that someone else can do too. You need some rest.”

“W-well! I haven’t seen  _ you _ take a break lately either!” he said as if that was a checkmate. 

“Yes, I’m aware that I’m as much a workaholic as you are, dear,” a roll of those pretty blue eyes “And that’s why I’ll make the great sacrifice of dragging my loving husband kicking and screaming to a relaxing few days.”

Shiro pouted and Keith chuckled before kissing his husband’s forehead.

“Now, let’s go. We can’t be late.” Keith said before detaching himself from Shiro to put on his Blades uniform. 

Keith had helped to keep the anxiety at bay with that small conversation, but Shiro still felt a little more exposed and unprotected now that he wasn’t in his beloved’s arms. As if breathing was just a little bit harder than before. 

In order to gather himself, he watched as Keith put his clothes with military precision and efficiency. It was funny for Shiro to see him like that because he had known Keith since he was barely 18 and a bit of a rebel. War never changes, but it leaves marks on people. It was with some shame that he looked at the scar on his beloved’s face, one that he had put there. Keith had forgiven him a long time ago, but Shiro couldn’t help himself at that time of the year to overanalyze everything wrong he had ever done.

Shiro sighed.

He hated March.

\--- 

Leaving their apartment on the Atlas was excruciating for Shiro, but a necessity. At least the prospect of a vacation with Keith lifted him up a bit. He chuckled to himself with self-deprecation. He, a convicted workaholic, was in such a bad shape mentally that a break seemed nice instead of annoying. 

Before entering the main bridge he had to take a very long calming breath. 

For this mission, they would have to work with Slav again, which was already a pain in the ass on normal days. Today he was making the polite guess that it would be worse. Sometimes Shiro wondered why the fuck nobody ever told the crazy scientist about the Observer Effect, that looking at something might change the outcome. So, Slav looking at the probabilities was what altered them, not the color or Shiro’s underwear or whatever the fuck Slav said was fundamental. 

The door slid with a dry sound as he entered.

For one instant, that sound reminded Shiro of the doors of the Galra prison. He didn’t know why for the prison doors also had some electricity sounds besides the dry one for open and closing. Shiro shook his head, trying to get his mind clear, but still feeling a shiver of dread running down his spine for one second too long. 

The bridge crew saluted him quickly before he waved his hand dismissively and they went back to work. The leaders of the Amariatos were already there, as well as the scientists. General Belen, a big and solemn Amariato, looked closer to pop a vein at Slav’s talking. Slav, always unable to read a room, turned to Shiro almost immediately. 

“Captain! What was the flavor of your toothpaste today!? This is important!”

“No, it’s not.” Shiro replied with a dry tone.

“But it is! If you used the wrong flavor-”

“The universe will end, yes, yes, we’ve had this conversation before.” he cut the scientist before turning to Sam Holt “Does he  _ really _ need to be here?”

He could see that Sam was holding back a smile, but his eyes still gleamed with mischievousness. It was obvious from where the Holt trickster vein came from. However, what was endearing on normal days, today made Shiro want to scream at Sam and berate him for that.

Shiro held that angry instinct back, obviously. 

“We need all the help we can get.” Sam replied, “But in this case, it was General Belen who requested the ‘great genius’ Slav.”

He could almost hear the quotation marks on Sam’s voice. Seeing how said general seemed to be seriously regretting his life decisions, he guessed that Sam was finding  _ that _ funny, not Shiro’s own annoyance with Slav. It made him chastize his own thoughts as if saying ‘see!? lashing out would only hurt a friend!’. He was still feeling very much on the edge, though.

There were too many people in the room. 

Objectively, Shiro knew that it was just the normal amount, but today his instincts were a little haywire and his mind felt like a mess (more than usual). Hence, he was feeling that six plus the crew operating the ship were too much. 

“But seriously! This is important! What was the flavor?” Slav insisted. 

“And I already replied that this is not relevant.”

Slav narrowed his eyes and Shiro almost rolled his.

There it comes, the Slav brand of emotional blackmail. Thanks to the stars for Sam being there, for he said in a mock tone together with Slav:

“So you don’t want to save the universe?”

“sO yOu DoN’t WaNt To SaVe ThE uNiVeRsE?”

Shiro smiled at that and even the Amariatos chuckled a little. Slav looked outraged and Sam looked smug.

“Since that… distraction... is out of the way./’ general Belen interrupted the convo with his grave voice “We need to discuss the final details for the plan.”

Shiro nodded. 

“But of course, we’re just waiting for the Blade of Marmora representatives.”

The general and the other Amariatos visibly tensed at the mention of the BOM. Which, unfortunately, was understandable. Working with the Galra was still a sore spot for most of the universe. But even if understandable, that reaction didn’t help Shiro humor at all. He had to take a deep breath not to say something sarcastic and rude at them. 

One of the Lieutenants nodded. They replied to Shiro with a bit of a disapproval expression on their grey-ish yellow face and a bit of a twitch on their feathery crest. 

“Very well, we’re just  _ concerned _ that-”

The door opened back again and the BOM got into the bridge. Allura and Pidge were with them. Keith was without his mask, leading his group.

Shiro made sure to breathe out slowly, to keep calm. However, he was really grateful that they cut the Lieutenant bullshit (whatever that was) before it was even said. 

He was getting closer and closer to his limit, so any help was very welcomed. 

Keith looked at him funnily for a moment before schooling his expression back to a neutral stance. 

Shiro would sigh if that wouldn’t call the attention of his husband back to himself. In his head, he debated the pros and cons of sleeping on the couch tonight, only to avoid having difficult conversations about his conditions.

The pro side was winning, and that was the ultimate proof Shiro could ever need that he should take vacations pronto.

\---

In the end, Shiro had to go with the MFEs to cover for the Blades’ and the Amariatos’ ships. Allura would stay at the Atlas coordinating things in his place. Usually, he would be more than pleased that people remembered that he wasn’t just captain of the biggest ship on the fleet, but also a hell of a fighter pilot. Today…

Today, if he was honest with himself, he fucking hated it.

The cockpit seemed too small for him as if he was going to be crushed inside it. 

The controls, with their blinking lights and sensors and screens, seemed to be an overload to his eyes. 

The breathing mask seemed way too much like a muzzle.

That last one made him feel another shiver of dread on his spine, cold like the fingers of a corpse. 

For one moment he wasn’t in the cockpit of the fighter jet. 

He didn’t know where he was, but his mind was screaming at him that he wasn’t safe. 

“You ok there, captain?”

Kinkade and the other MFEs looked at him with some concern. 

Couldn’t they mind their fucking business?!

Shiro took a long breath, pushing the rude snark down his own throat. 

No lashing out at people. 

“I’m fine, lieutenant.” he couldn't help but be a little blunt “Focus on the mission ahead.”

They nodded.

“Yes sir!” Rizavi replied for them, while the others just saluted him.

Shiro nodded, making sure to breathe slowly. 

_ Patience _ , he ordered to himself, desperate for something to focus on. Once in the cockpit alone and before turning on his coms, he did some breathing exercises.

Come on!

That wasn't the moment to break for fuck's sake!

But no matter how much he ordered himself, more and more he felt as if his skin was too small for him. At some points, he even felt as if his ship was free-falling, shaking out control as he re-entered the atmosphere in one of the ancient vessels the cosmonauts of the first space travels used.

Just like when he escaped from his captivity.

He gritted his teeth.

Come on! Keep it  _ fucking _ together Shirogane!

\---

The battle was surprisingly easy. Not in a deceptive way, mind you. Those Empire-sympathizers Galra seemed to be fighting with everything they still got. Also, their intel was 100% correct, meaning that they didn’t have any trick or hidden plan. 

Yet Shiro felt on edge all the time.

Paranoid that some unexpected Galra battle cruise would jump out of hyperspace and attack. Even with the Atlas there, he felt as if they were unprepared. 

Thus, instead of going forward during combat, he stayed behind. 

Watching.

Waiting for an enemy that he logically  _ knew _ wouldn’t come, but that his emotions  _ knew _ it would.

At least nobody complained that he stayed in the back. 

Small mercies.

\---

To his tastes at that moment, the Amariatos lived way too high in the clouds. Shiro knew they were kinda a species of birds, and he usually really wouldn’t mind the view, but today he avoided looking down at the walkaways.

The sensation of free-falling in a small space shutter seemed to follow him if he even glanced down. 

The shivers on his spine were now more constant, for even the smallest thing. 

First were the aforementioned walkways.

Then, as he entered the Pro-Empire HQ, it got way worse because every tiny thing was enough to set him off. 

So many minute details that Shiro sometimes didn’t even notice why he was like that. His body just reacted, like an uncapped wire, making him feel those shivers and as if he was on edge all the time. 

They were walking the Galran corridors, the ones they adapted from the original buildings the Amariatos had made. The Galra liked it a little darker since their night vision was very well developed. 

The darkness and the modified architecture made Shiro want to crawl under his own skin. 

“Captain?” Rizavi asked him with concern in her voice. 

It made Shiro cringe and clench his fingers as if the physical act of tightening his fists could hold him back from snapping. 

“Keep your attention, lieutenant,” he ordered as gentle as he could, but it still sounded a little like a bark to him. 

Rizavi raised her eyebrows but nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

He could feel Keith’s eyes on him even with him using the Blade’s mask. The MFEs and the Blades were cleaning that part of the building together. That strategy made sense but also sounded like an excuse for Keith to keep an eye on him. That usually would make Shiro swoon a little. It always felt great and lovely to have his husband taking care of him (real prince charming material).

Today, at each moment that passed, Shiro wished Keith just minded his own fucking business. 

The worst part is that he didn’t even recognize that wish as his own. It felt like an alien being thrust inside himself, eating away his guts and his thoughts. But at the same time, that wish  _ was _ his, and Shiro hated himself for it.

“Are you ok, Takashi?” Keith asked quietly, interlacing their pinkies as they walked together. 

Shiro just hates himself even more for clenching his fist again instead of embracing his husband’s attempt to get closer.

“I’m  _ fine _ . Just keep your focus on the mission.”

He was aware that he couldn’t see Keith’s expression. But even then, Shiro refused to look at his face. 

Angry and ashamed. 

He couldn’t do anything about hearing, though, not without looking like a bratty child putting his fingers in his ears.

“Yes sir.”

There was no playfulness or affection in that answer, and it just added to Shiro’s foul mood. 

\---

Their intel already said that the pro-Empire group was led by a druid. Many of the Empire’s military divisions were led by them, as the office-hood and druid-hood were mixed together in ways it would be almost impossible to untangle. No surprise here.

Shiro usually would be a little uncomfortable dealing with druids. Even if he didn’t have all his memory about his time in captivity and even if the clone's memories from before joining team Voltron were scrambled and blurred, dealing with druids always seemed to arouse some ugly feelings in him. He didn’t know exactly why. Keith had a theory that druids had some aura of magic or something that he could feel because of his time as a prisoner (and being a Quintessence sensitive individual, apparently Keith could feel some of it too). However, that discomfort was nothing Shiro couldn’t handle. Keeping his feelings in check and handling situations with calm and deliberation was something he did even before Kerberos. Thus, even if he was uncomfortable, he could manage it pretty well

Well, today wasn’t business as usual, was it?

And of course (of course!) the druid in question was resisting. 

She had set some defenses and barricades around her lab and had locked herself up there. The Coalition was pushing through three corridors that would get to that locked door. 

Was Shiro being sloppy with his fighting and getting somewhat unnecessarily hurt?

Yeah, maybe.

Did he care?

No.

He just wanted to get this shit done with so he could fucking go home.

Just being there was already so overwhelming it was borderline unbearable. It was as if Shiro was wearing a lead straight jacket, cruelly heavy and restricting. At the same time, it was as if  _ everything  _ was too much. The dim lights were like spotlights straight to his eyes, the noises were like a constant high pitch ring in his ears, and the temperature…

That cold…

That  _ Galra  _ cold…

He didn't know why but it was way too much reminiscing of his imprisonment…

Of Haggar…

Of the experiments.

He gritted his teeth and continued to relentlessly attack.

He  _ had _ to go home.

Who cares if he got a few scratches to get there?

And, well, if he could feel Keith’s disapproving stare at the back of his head, that was  _ Keith _ ’s problem, not his. 

The three “fronts” got to their objective almost at the same time. Pidge had just kneeled beside the door to access its circuits in order to unlock it when they got closer. She glanced at them and frowned at Shiro’s injuries, but before Pidge could say anything, he interrupted her.

“How long until we can get inside?”

That seemed to distract her well enough.

“Just a few moments more.” Pidge turned back to the panel.

Pidge was quick dealing with technology of any kind. Almost all the Holts were (Collen was the only one focusing more on biology and less on tech, but she still knew a lot of the second area). Objectively, Shiro knew it would be fast and a short wait.

Then why the fuck was she taking so goddamn long?

For how fucking long would that take?

The weight of the air seemed like the weight of a planet in his shoulders, the lead suit pulling him down, drowning in a sea of agony. 

Shiro felt Keith getting into his personal space. He did with the same ease he had for years, even before they started dating (memories that sweeten their friendship and love). However, he seemed to make sure that Shiro saw him with his peripheral vision before taking the last steps. He didn’t touch him just yet, just standing there in Shiro’s space like he owned that too. His presence was a comfort but also torture, for Shiro wanted to reach out and hold him as much as he wanted to push him (and any other person) away from him. 

“Get ready,” Pidge said looking back to the group.

The Amariatos nodded, preparing their weapons and shields. The Blade Agents who had taken off their masks put them back and unsheathed their blades. The MFEs stepped behind, covering for the other two groups. 

Shiro, though, stayed in the front line with Keith. 

If asked, he wouldn’t have an answer to why the fuck he did that instead of following protocol. 

His mind was too clouded for him to think too hard on his own reasons. 

The door opened with the same sound any Galra door on the Empire’s installations did, that almost imperceptive spark or electricity among the dry opening sound. Already enough to make Shiro’s skin crawl. 

However, it was the scene in front of him that made him freeze. 

The druid in question was by herself, with no guards to protect her. In her operating table, though…

She was doing experiments on one of the Amariatos they captured. 

Cutting off one of their wings.

Exchanging for a metal-bladed one. 

Behind her, on huge cryotubes, the results of those sick procedures. 

Amariatos with their upper limbs cut out and exchanged for prosthetics. Their brains were exposed and some Galra chips were protruding there. Their eyes were open, but their expressions were vacant and empty. As if there wasn’t anyone there anymore. 

The most strong shiver ran down Shiro’s spine.

From his neck to the tailbone. 

Spreading pure and unadulterated terror through his body.

_ Fear _ .

Painfully pure  _ fear _ .

He could feel handcuffs on his wrists and two Imperial soldiers escorting him to Haggar’s operation table. 

To take away his arm. 

To do other awful things to him. 

At the same time, he felt paralyzed and felt his body move on its own account. 

Before the druid had time to react, his fist made contact with her face. 

Again.

And again.

And again. 

They wouldn’t get him again!

They  _ couldn’t _ get to him again!

No!

Please…!

_ Don’t let them get him again! _

_ Please _ !

He was stopped by a hand clutching his wrist. 

A Blade agent had grabbed him. He couldn’t see the agent’s expression, but Shiro  _ definitely  _ could hear the painful whimper the druid let out. 

Instead of feeling sorry for her and instead of feeling ashamed for his violent outburst, Shiro just felt panic and fear. 

He had acted just like the Champion Haggar shaped him to be. 

The eyes of everyone in the room burned on the back of his neck just adding to his shame. 

Fear and humiliation mixed behind his sternum, a wave of nausea and inner claustrophobia that constricted his chest making it hard to breathe hard to just  _ be _ . His head felt light with anguish and a bubble of panic grew in his chest. He knew it would be humiliating to let it blow there, in front of all those people. 

Thus, he pulled his arm roughly from the grasp. 

“What the fuck are you looking at!? Finish securing the room!”

Even with the mask, it was possible to see the Blade was startled by his reaction, for their chest moved half an inch in an evasive movement (even though, oddly enough, they kept on Shiro’s personal space, as if they were used to being there).

In distress and disarray, Shiro turned around to the others, teeth bared and eyes hard while his heart beat frantically in cold terror.

“What the hell are you all staring at!? Secure the fucking room! We don’t have all fucking day!”

The others looked at him in shock. The Amariato warriors widened their eyes and their beaks hung open. The embarrassment of making people react like that only added up to Shiro’s distress.

He let go of the druid’s robes, realizing he didn’t even remember grabbing them. 

One more thing to be ashamed of. 

Shiro clenched his fists, so his hands wouldn’t shake. His whole arms were tense. Even his prosthetics felt tight. Walking away was a struggle, both mentally (with him having to push down shame and despair, using some of his precious mental energy for only that) and physically (for the act of walking felt like a very taxing shore). Hell, even breathing seemed to be some active process, that if he didn’t pay very close attention, he would fail and hyperventilate. 

“Shiro…” Pidge started to say. 

Shiro’s guess was that she would ask if he was ok, to ask what was wrong with him. 

He was having none of it at that moment. 

“Don’t dally! Focus on your fucking orders!”

She widened her eyes in alarm, but said nothing.

Or, at least, he didn’t wait for her to say anything. 

He didn’t know what was worse: her not saying anything out of shock or him being so fucking weak to not be able to hear any answer.

What a joke he was. 

Shiro avoided looking at anyone in the room, even the Blade agent that seemed to be following him. Humiliation, anger, and a great deal of anguish seemed to consume him, drowning him in a tsunami of internal turmoil like a pit of the darkest tar.

He couldn’t breathe.

He couldn’t  _ breathe _ .

**_He couldn’t breathe!_ **

He had to get out of there before… 

Before…

His mind was so taken by emotions that he didn’t know what would happen. 

Just that it would be ugly.

Vicious.

He  **had** to get out of there.

On the outside, the MFEs and the other participants on that mission stared at him in confusion.

“What are you looking at! Don’t you fucking have anything better to do!?” he half snarled, half barked. 

Again, Shiro couldn’t bear to see the reactions to his angry remark. Thus, he just kept walking. 

He overheard another voice giving gentle (or at least, gentler than his) commands to the people before quiet steps followed him. He recognized that was Keith by his gait, a mixture of years noticing every single lovely detail of his mate, and his own paranoia and hyperalertness. Shiro was such a mess at that moment that he had no idea if he wanted his husband near or not.

All he could focus on was his own hurt and pain and sickness.

By the stars… He felt so sick he wanted to tear his own skin open, setting whatever was trapped inside free. He felt like a broken lion trapped inside human skin, so tight it was suffocating, and only his claws on that filthy flesh would do the job. 

He barely could remember him piloting back home to the Atlas. 

What Shiro could remember was him snapping at her when he got there, though. 

With a worry and care akin to both a kid and a mother, Atlas immediately asked if he was ok, what happened, how he was feeling. Her love for him felt as touching as it felt smothering.

_ Get the fuck out of my head! _

He could almost feel her recoiling as if stung. Shiro held back a sound that he didn’t know if it was a mournful whimper or a wrathful snarl at her reaction. He hated himself for being such an emotional wreck. 

After what felt like three entire eternities, Shiro finally stood in front of his apartment’s door. 

Keith was still following him. Shiro didn’t turn at any moment to look at him, but the quiet sound of his steps was unmistakable. He could hear that his husband made a pause a few steps away from him. On any good day, Shiro would turn and tease him, saying that Keith was like a cat waiting to pounce. 

Today Shiro just punched his code at the door pad and got inside before Keith could take the first step toward him. 

He was in the process of trying to claw his way out of his fighting suit when the door slid open again and his husband entered the apartment. 

“Takashi…”

“I don’t want to hear it right now, Keith,” Shiro interrupted him “in case you didn’t get the fucking message.”

A growl of frustration escaped Shiro’s lips and teeth. Why the fuck was that suit so hard to get out!

Keith took a deep breath.

Shiro still didn’t want to look at him. 

“Takashi-”

“Stop calling me that!”

A sigh. 

“Shiro, breathe. It’s ok, the mission was completed.”

“Then I don’t fucking need your pep talk, do I?”

“What happened was an accident-”

That made Shiro actually look at Keith with a glare in his eyes and a snarl on his lips. 

“An accident!? Are you that stupid?! What!? Next thing you’ll say it’s not my fault!”

Keith was startled for a moment, but not deterred.

“It was just a mistake, Shiro.”

“A mist-”

“Yes, a mistake.” Keith interrupted him in a firm, but gentle, tone “You made a mistake, but that doesn’t make you the monster you think you are right now.”

As he was saying that, he carefully walked towards Shiro. Like a cornered animal, Shiro stepped back until he was against the wall literally. 

He snarled again, one last-ditch attempt to push Keith away.

“Stay the fuck back!”

Keith ignored him. 

“Don’t get any closer!”

Keith was always stronger than he seemed. Lately, a more Galra oriented diet had made him stronger, even if he was still shorter than his husband. His arms enveloped Shiro tightly, as if he  _ knew _ Shiro would break if he didn’t do so. 

And Shiro indeed broke. 

He could feel as if part of him was being torn apart in emotional pain and turmoil. 

He felt angry.

He felt needy.

He felt hurt.

He felt broken.

He felt…

Shiro shouted and tried to break free.

It hurt to be close just as much as it hurt to be away, and he didn’t want o Keith to cut his fingers in his broken pieces. 

But Keith never let him go. No matter how much he shouted and struggled, Keith held on tightly to him like he always did.

Thus, Shiro turned his pain towards him, to use his love to try to hurt him. 

In the middle of tears he didn’t even notice had fallen from his eyes and shouts he could barely understand, he kissed Keith, a kiss that was more teeth than a kiss. It broke Keith’s lower lip, drawing some blood and making Keith make a surprised little moan. 

He didn’t stop there, though, tearing Keith’s Marmora suit with the brute strength of his metal arm. The soft skin was almost immediately marked with his teeth with the same violence he had kissed before. The suit was ruined, torn like a cheap stocking. No matter how strong and prepared for fighting it was, it was no match for the merciless force of his prosthetic. It gave out just like its owner, for Keith surrendered easily, moaning like a sweet whore whenever Shiro marred his body.

He did more than surrender, though. When Shiro got frustrated and let out an animalistic shout because his own suit didn’t give in as easily to his brute force, Keith’s gentle fingers opened it up for him. The help made Shiro even more emotional when he was already in a hurricane. He couldn’t handle gentleness.

He just couldn’t. 

He turned Keith around so he wouldn’t see his eyes while he fucked him viciously against the wall. 

Shiro bit hard at the junction of Keith’s neck when he came inside him. If it wasn’t for the Marmora suit still being intact on the shoulders, he would have torn skin and made a terrible, even dangerous, bite wound. 

Keith let out a coarse and lewd moan as he came too, his cum spilling on their livingroom wall. 

They panted together, their bodies hot and sweaty. 

But that violent fast release didn’t seem to be enough for Shiro. Or, at least, just seemed to rile up the wounded animal inside of him. When Keith turned his head and tried to kiss him gently, using his left hand to delicately try to guide Shiro’s lips, Shiro grabbed said hand and pushed his husband towards the bedroom with brutality. 

Like a beast in heat, Shiro had his way again with Keith on top of the counter, pulling Keith’s hair and making his husband arc his back as he came with another shout.

It was an unsatisfactory satisfaction, though, for Shiro still felt empty, demanding, and possessive, among other awful emotions he couldn’t put a finger on yet. 

At some point between that and when they reached the bedroom, they had lost all their clothes. Shiro didn’t know if it was he who tore them all into shreds with his metal hand, or if it was Keith’s careful fingers who did the job. All he knew was that they were now naked in their bed, and his mind was still a void that could only take, take and take.

In that regard, Keith’s blue eyes, an anchor to a reality that seemed familiar and yet so foreign, seemed to hold his head above the water at the same time it was drowning him. 

“Make me stop.” he begged in a murmur in the eye of the hurricane, trying to hold onto all the meager threads of lucidity he could “Please, make me stop!”

Keith didn’t. Instead, he held his husband so gently it hurt.

“I’m here with you, Takashi… You’re safe…” he replied in his soft half-slurred tone that Shiro loved and hated and  _ loved _ so much.

Shiro was still too wounded at that moment to be able to just accept and surrender to that love, though. Thus he forcefully turned Keith around, holding his arm in a painful lock behind his back, as he fucked him once again, hard and rough. He could feel that Keith came for a third time, for his ass clenched around him and he trembled in ecstasy, but Shiro didn’t slow down until  _ he _ was finished. Only then he stop. 

He stopped and he broke. 

Fat bittersweet tears rolled down his face freely as sobs ripped from his chest. A storm that he could barely contain.

Keith turned around and with the same softness and tenderness as before started to coo and caress him, a small lifeboat that seemed to stay still for him, no matter how the sea of Shiro’s emotions rocked.

If Shiro was honest, he would have to admit that he was still in too much turmoil to be able to accept that gentle love. However, he was also  _ exhausted _ and breaking into a million pieces. Too hurt to accept love, too tired to fight against it. 

He cried himself to sleep on his husband’s arms, into a fistful rest.

In the middle of the night, he woke up. The lights had dimmed down, probably because of Atlas. He would have to apologize to her. 

However, his mind was still a mess. And although the sleep and his previous breakdown had set a few things in place, there was still that stormy void that he needed to fill. 

Keith’s body, stinking of sex, warm, and pliable in his sleep seemed to be the most ideal for filling that. 

He was the best teddy bear Shiro could ever want after all. 

His body was still ready for him, giving in without much resistance while Keith moaned in his sleep. He must have been very very tired and therefore sleeping very deep, for it took a few thrusts before Keith blinked awake and moaned more loudly, spreading his legs to better accommodate him. 

He reached his arms for Shiro, soft with sleep and soft overall, just like before. This time, however, Shiro felt a little less broken, or maybe just a little more needier. He didn’t know. All what Shiro knew is that the love and tenderness washed over him like gentle rain on dry land, mending the broken shards of the soil at the same time it sculpted it. He could barely stand staring at Keith’s blue eyes, but he couldn’t look away either. 

Shiro cried the whole way through their orgasm and then cried himself to sleep again. This time, it was a more restful sleep.

He was too tired to sleep in any other way. 

\---

Shiro woke up to an empty bed, but to the smell of coffee in the air. 

The door of their bedroom was open, and he could hear the little noises coming from the kitchen, noises of a slow morning. Atlas seemed to be lurking in his mind, but she didn’t poke or said anything, apparently content to just watch him. 

He curled up on himself, laying in a fetal position in the bed. 

The hurricane on his mind had passed, so the extreme turmoil was absent. However, the emotions arisen from the deep were still there, lying on the beach like sad debris he would have to deal with if he ever would want to feel normal.

Shame seemed to be the dominant one.

How could he treat other people like that?

How could he abandon a mission in the middle like that?

How could he mistreat Keith like that?

He frowned, swallowing his self-pity in order to try and accept a harsher judgment of himself.

By the stars… how damn  _ selfish _ he was yesterday?

How cruel and uncaring!

Such a terrible person he was, and he felt even worse when he considered that he just let out what was already inside of him. 

He surely was such a despicable person…

Again, he swallowed his tears and clutched to his shins, trying to be as small as he could. 

Shiro could hear steps coming to the bedroom. His back was turned to the entrance, and he didn’t move, but he could hear the door being pushed and could smell the scent of fresh coffee bathing the room

“Hey…” Keith greeted in his quiet half-slurred tone. 

When Shiro didn’t reply, he continued walking and sat on the bed. Shiro could hear the sound of a mug being set on the bedside table before gentle fingers caressed his hair.

“How are you feeling?”

Shiro didn’t look at him and tried to get even smaller. 

Keith patiently ran his fingers through his husband’s hair.

Silence seemed to stretch uncomfortably, at least for Shiro.

“I’m sorry…” he said at last, when he couldn’t stand anymore.

Keith sighed.

“What for exactly?”

“You know why…”

“No, I really don’t.”

Shiro pursed his lips.

“Please… don’t play dumb now...”

His husband hummed. 

“I really am not. I mean, you probably do have to apologize to some people, like Pidge and some of the Amariatos. But not to me.”

“I hurt you.” he pursed his lips “Used you regardless of what you said.”

Keith actually chuckled.

“You fucked me hard and good, like, a toe-curling eye-rolling good shag. Did you really expect me to complain if I got a few kiss marks in exchange or if I limp a little the next day?”

Shiro could basically hear the shit-eating grin on Keith’s low voice.

“Or are you worried about your midnight craving?” he continued, still on that affectionate teasing tone “You know that we talked about this before, and that I kinda find it sexy when you wake me up with a few fingers up on my ass or you playing with my cock. Or, in this case with your big fat-”

“Stop making light of it!” Shiro begged with his voice heavy with tears that he was holding back “Please…”

The hand on Shiro’s hair stilled for a moment. 

There was a heavy silence in the room. 

Until Keith sighed and ran his fingers to Shiro’s face. 

“Takashi… look at me.”

Shiro just shook his head.

Keith took another deep breath.

“Takashi, what happened was awful yes. It was bad that you lashed out like that, that you brutalized that person like that. Druid or not, what you did wasn’t right.” he waited for a moment, and when Shiro stayed silent, he continued “You might have to face some consequences for that, yes, but right now I’m more worried about what led to it, what has been brewing until that point, and what was the final straw. And I’m also worried about how you’re feeling.”

“The answers are obvious.”

“No, not really. I know you enough to try to guess what you’re thinking the answers are, but I also know your mind is playing tricks with you.” he snorted in a mixture of annoyance and amusement “I kinda can’t believe I’m the one in the relationship saying this, but you do need help, you know? Professionals.”

That made Shiro frown.

“I’m not crazy.”

“Never said you were. But it does help, you know. At least it does for me.”

It was no secret among them that Keith had been going to a therapist for a couple of years now. Shiro had been supportive of his husband doing so. After all, Keith  _ deserved _ all the support, care, and love in the world to him, for being such a brave and selfless person. If anything, Shiro really thought that Keith deserved even  _ more. _

He didn’t think he deserved the same, though.

“It’s different.” he said, petulantly still avoid looking at his husband “You didn’t just snap like a psycho.”

“True, but you do have to admit I was kinda like a greasy wild animal at the beginning.”

Shiro didn’t reply again, making Keith sigh deeply one more time. 

“Please, Takashi… It hurts to see you hurt like this. I know you are in pain,” his voice got a little rougher, as if he himself was holding back from crying a bit “and it fucking  _ sucks _ that I can’t do anything about it. It really messes me up that I can only help you with this bad coping mechanism when I’m positive you deserve more. You’re worth it, I  _ know _ you are.”

That was what finally made Shiro turn to look at his husband’s big sad blue eyes.

“I’m sorry… I never…” he swallow a hiccup “I never meant to hurt you at all.”

He caressed Keith’s face, finally being able to give him the tenderness he deserved. Keith closed his eyes for one moment, enjoying the affection before looking back at him. 

“I know you didn’t. But you still need help for yourself.”

“I…” he swallowed again “I’m scared. I don’t… I don’t want to mess with… these things…”

“I understand, but you need to. Because I might love the rough sex, but I hate the reason behind it. You deserve to get better. Do it, do it for yourself. Please…”

Shiro bit his lower lip.

“Will you stay with me?”

Keith closed his eyes again to kiss Shiro’s palm with all the earnestness and sincerity he could muster. 

“Always. For as long as you’ll have me.”

Shiro swallowed one last time before giving him a timid nod.

“Ok… I… I can try… try it…”

Seeing Keith smile at him gave him the first good emotion since his breakdown yesterday. 

Was he feeling normal? Of course not, his emotions were still all over the place in the fallout of that mess. He still dreaded having to deal with the consequences of his outburst, for he was rude and unfair to Pidge and the others. Shiro also didn’t feel that great about trying therapy if he was being honest, too afraid of him being a lost cause and too much of a made monster for him to be fixed.

However, a small sparkle of hope was ignited by Keith’s smile. 

It was pale, tenuous, and timid, like a ray of moonlight.

But at that moment it was all what Shiro needed to know the storm had passed at last, and that no matter what happened, he had someone to catch him in the end. 

**Author's Note:**

> **Making off of the story:**
> 
> Hi Fufu! =D  
> Sorry for the delay in delivering your gift. 2020 (and then some of the beginning of 2021) wasn't easy on anyone x_x
> 
> In any case, I have to confess that playing within canon and making angst from Shiro's pov aren't exactly my specialty, but I did pick your prompt for "any type of idea of keith being supportive during a ptsd episode". Although it's not really my alleyway, I really had fun making the meltdown and building it up.  
> I tried my best and I hope you like the end result <3  
> I played with a more unconventional idea for sex during one of those episodes, something more dark and heavy, but I stayed away from the 'taking care of you = sex' that you mentioned you don't like LOL I just liked the idea of Shiro having a meltdown and sex being both to cope and to still lash out. It's a good thing that Keith is both there for the ride and to nudge him towards a better way to deal with his shit after the storm.  
> Also, I hope you appreciate the irony that indeed is Keith going to therapy while Shiro doesn't. I mean, they both need it, but I kinda expected that from Shiro instead.
> 
> Thank everyone for reading! I hope you have enjoyed the story! Leave a kudo and a comment if you liked!
> 
> If you want to find me, I'm on twitter [@DestineeZara](https://twitter.com/DestineeZara)
> 
> Comments help me to get going, you know. Like, SERIOUSLY, they keep me going. I feed on them and I'm always hungry.
> 
> I guess this is it for this story =3  
> I hope you have enjoyed!
> 
> See you around kids
> 
> bye-bye o/


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